Ramesh Khatri
I am a cop to guard the folk
Have to curb the movement on the streets
And haul bullets, cloaking the pain in the heart.
The lock is not in hand; only the order of the elite is there
I too die on the road, a long way over the stones
Oh, Whizzed, you poor fellow, why do you let him abuse you so?
Losing discipline, who counts?
Movements day and night on the streets
Somewhere along with corona walk in fear
A stone and a brick on the road above us
Happiness and peace would last forever if the leader worked on-the-up-and-up
Work on the road and limit a mass is a job
Who understands how much I have suffered?
I do not mind about man’s abuse, but I confess I grudge my two pence.
Lost dignity, humiliation and obloquy in society
Come on, companion, get up and don’t throw stones at anyone.
[Mr. Ramesh Khatri is an MEd in English Language Education from Tribhuvan University. Presently an MPhil scholar in ELE at Kathmandu University, he is also working as Social science teacher at John Dewey High school, Baluwatar, Kathmandu. Besides, teaching he loves writing poetry in his spare time. He has published several poems in national journals and local papers. He passionately loves to write about personal tragedy, short-lived romance and social satire.]